


Trust is Key

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The British Government and the DI [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Dom!John, Dom!Mycroft, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sub!Greg, sub/Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:53:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg is left in awe after his first scene with Mycroft. However, are Mycroft's secrets too much for the DI?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Matter of Consent

Lestrade sat at his desk, staring unseeing at his computer screen. He couldn't get his mind off of the scene from the night before. It had been everything he had hoped for and more. The case this morning was exceedingly dull even by his standards and the paperwork did nothing to quell the boredom. The Chief Superintendent walking in at that moment did though. He stood up quickly. “Sir?” And then he looked away, blushing in remembrance of the previous evening. Christ! That word had been rendered permanently embarrassing in perfectly normal situations. Fortunately, the Chief Superintendent didn't seem to notice his discomfiture. He just handed Greg a file on a new case. They discussed it briefly and Lestrade sank into his chair as the other man left. That was when his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, hoping against hope that it wasn't Mycroft, he was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to contain himself if it was. It wasn't. It was a mobile number, a mobile number that wasn't in his contacts. He swiped his thumb across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Holmes asks if you are finishing work yet?”

Greg frowned. Anthea? Couldn't Mycroft phone himself? It took all he had not to be Sherlockian snarky, but he managed it. It wasn't Anthea's fault that Mycroft was an arse... the man had a lovely arse... Get a grip Greg, he told himself. “I should be able to finish things here in, oh...” Who was he kidding? “Yeah. I'm finished. Should I expect a courtesy kidnapping or am I on my own getting home?”

“One moment Mr. Lestrade.”

Greg sighed as he heard his lover's PA prance about on the other end. It felt like forever before he heard her voice again.

“Mr. Holmes would like to speak to you.”

“Mycroft,” Greg said, his annoyance showing.

“I apologise for not calling myself, Gregory,” came the government official's cool tone.

Lestrade smiled to himself at Mycroft being so typically Mycroft. It was odd how such a cool tone could warm the DI so completely. “Why didn't you?” He could almost see the government official rolling his eyes. He held his phone to his ear with his shoulder and reached around his desk, shoving everything into the open drawer.

“I wasn't entirely certain I would be able to speak with you. The ambassador insisted on dragging out the 'chit chat'. Thankfully, I was able to urge him on his way.” If Greg had been able to see, he would have observed Mycroft turning away from Anthea for a bit more privacy. “I missed you today.”

The DI still wanted to be annoyed, but it was hard to do in the face of such hard won sentimentality, and sentimentality from either Holmes was gift worth treasuring. “Well, I'm done for the day.”

“I'll send a car.”

What Greg didn't know was that it would be Mycroft in the backseat, not his PA.

The moment he saw him, the warm feeling grew. He caught a glimpse of dark curls and Belstaff, Greg turned and climbed in next to him, a great smile on his face, but with a sense of urgency. “Let's go, Myc. I don't want to deal with your brother, right now. I'd have to tell him thanks.”

“You know, Gregory, if you do say thanks to him, he may leave us alone?”

Greg glanced up at the older man. “Do you really think that's likely?”

Mycroft chuckled.

“Probably n-” he cut off as the door the DI had just climbed in through opened.

“Ah, has my big brother got his own pet?”

Mycroft smiled slightly. “Ah, has my baby brother been let off his leash?”

The DI hated being caught between the two Holmses, this time, literally. Sherlock was surely about to snipe back. “Oi!” Greg headed him off. “Play nice or I won't share my new case with you.” Sherlock's mouth snapped shut and he looked eager. “Tomorrow,” Greg said pointedly. The DI's mouth quirked into a smile at the detective's obvious disappointment. “And... Thank you, by the way.”

Sherlock blinked, caught off guard. Just then, he felt a familiar grip at the base of his skull - John.

“Sorry if my pet was bothering you. I'll take him home and teach him some manners.” John closed the door.

Greg suppressed a grin.

“Did you really think it was a coincidence my brother was here at the same time?”

“Well, I thought he might have escaped John's cage. Anyway,” he spun around, intent on forgetting about the cheeky shit that was his boyfriend's baby brother, and knelt on the floor of the car beside Mycroft's leg.

“Drive on,” the British Government ordered the driver.

Greg hesitated, wanting to place his head on Mycroft's lap, but still unsure of their new dynamic. He itched to wrap his arms around his Dom's leg.

“Go ahead, then,” the government official said, running his fingers through Greg's silver hair. “I know you want to.”

The DI's eyes fell shut as he nestled his head into Mycroft's lap and brought his arms up to hold onto him tightly.

“All these years I've wondered what this would be like, I never said anything because I was scared you'd think I was mad.”

The DI's head moved up to regard the Dom. “I still do think you're mad. Sir.”

“Change of plan,” Mycroft raised his voice so the driver could hear. “My club.” He glanced back down and cupped Greg's cheek. “I have something to show you.”

The DI expected them to pull up outside of the Diogenes, but instead they pulled up in front of another innocuous looking building. He started to ask what the place was, but a warning finger pressed to his lips stopped him.

Mycroft slid out of the car and then reached a hand in grabbing his collar. With a sharp tug he pulled the choking DI from the back of the car. Greg's head was low, given the grip on the scruff of his neck so he didn't see his lover tap in the code and he didn't see what lined the walls until he was forced to his knees on a dusty floor. This place obviously hadn't been used in a long time but as the lights flickered on, the amount of cuffs and ropes was of a rather large quantity. Greg swallowed then looked at Mycroft. He felt like such an idiot, thinking he actually mattered to the other man. Clearly, he was just another in a line of the government official's subs. The thick layer of dust did little to quell his growing upset. Mycroft was obviously a patient man, willing to wait for what he wanted. He took a deep breath and then stood up, unaware that Mycroft still held his suit jacket lightly. He tightened it as he turned to leave.

“Mycroft, I can't do this, I thought we had something. I thought you were willing to offer something that would benefit us both. But I'm clearly just the next in a long line. I should have known really, being the British Government and dealing with Sherlock you must have outstanding patience.”

“They were one time things… before… I didn't even know them-”

“Yeah, right.”

His collar was released and it was only in shock that he glanced at the older man's face. The hurt and confusion written there was clear.

“You mean that,” Greg said, realising the truth of his words even as he said them.

“Of course I do. I was willing to forego all of this,” Mycroft gestured around him, “for you.” He looked away, though his feelings were hidden behind a mask of indifference, his voice shook as he added, “I still am.”

“You're the most powerful man in Britain. You could have anyone you wanted and do anything to them you wanted and no one could touch you.”

“That… that doesn't mean I have, or would, Gregory.” His eyes flashed with danger but Greg was unsure what at. Mycroft turned and ran his hands through his hair facing the other way. He didn't know what else he could say but decided on, “If you want to leave, then go.”

“And you'd let me?” Greg was starting to realise he may have made a terrible mistake.

“Of course I would. I wouldn't do anything to you without your full consent… hence why this place hasn't been touched in years.”

“Why me? Why pick me all those years ago?”

Mycroft swallowed hard. “Gregory… I love you.”

Greg wasn't a teenage girl, easily undone by three little words. It was the soft look on Mycroft's face that did it. Only the DI got to see that look and it had been a hard won privilege. His knees gave way and he found himself kneeling in front of Mycroft, giving himself up to the remarkable man. He dropped his head and closed his eyes, willing to take whatever he had to offer. He had fallen in love with him for a reason, after all.

Mycroft stepped forward and tilted the DI's head back. He waited patiently until the kneeling man met his eyes. “I think we need to talk about this, pet.”

Greg blinked up at him, a frown on his face. “It's okay, really,” he reassured Mycroft.

“No, it's not, not if there's a risk of you doubting me.” The DI started to object, but Mycroft's finger pressed against his lips forestalled him. “There has to be trust for a relationship like this to work.”

That was too much for Greg. “I do trust you. You would never hurt me.”

The government official smiled sadly. “You trust me with your body, yes, but I'm not so sure you trust me with your heart, even after all this time.”

Greg froze. “This is all wrong. All of it.” He stood up and backed away from Mycroft. He even ignored the hurt look on the government official’s face. He glanced around the room at the amount of toys and things. Half of it, he didn't even recognise, let alone understand. “Something in the last half an hour has gone very wrong and I don't know what.”

“Precisely,” Mycroft agreed, his voice far too cool for comfort. He was trying to hide his hurt and... fear. Losing Greg's love was one of the few things that genuinely scared the government official. “Can we back up a few steps, Gregory? Review what we both know to be true?”

The DI looked away and swallowed. “That might be good, yeah.”

Mycroft helped Greg to his feet. “There's another room, this way.” He gestured to a door that the DI hadn't noticed before. “The atmosphere in there is a bit less, hmm, intense, as it were.”


	2. Dusting off the Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft finish talking through the DI's reservations and then start to play.

Mycroft hovered awkwardly by the door as Greg sat down. It was like a large living space with a convenient placed bed in one corner. “Gregory…”

The DI hadn't seen Mycroft act so diffident since they had first got together. It was something he definitely didn't like. In a strange reversal of roles, Greg took him by the hand and led him to the bed, where they sat together, fingers intertwined.

“What do we do now?” Mycroft asked.

“You're the one that wanted to talk.”

“I well… yes…” Mycroft sighed. “Do you remember how it was, when you asked me out every week and every week I said no?” He squeezed Greg's hand. “I had never had a genuine relationship before. Of course, you know that. Now you know why. I thought my tastes precluded my building a life with someone.” Lifting Greg's hands to his lips, he kissed it. “The day I said yes to you and accepted your invitation for a date, I shut this all away because, even then, I knew you were worth it.”

“So you just used to pick random people off the street, drag them in here and force them to play your games?”

Had he been his brother, the government official would have said 'don't be an idiot.' Instead, he responded with, “Do you really think so little of me?”

“I don't know what to think. Everything I knew of you was turned upside down less than an hour ago. I love you Myc, of course I do, nothing will change that but this has just made me realise that I don't know you anywhere near as much as I thought I did.” Greg's words hit him like a slap and he retreated behind his default expression of cool indifference. “Oh, fuck, Myc, don't do that. I hate it when you close yourself off.”

Mycroft stood up and walked over to the corner where there was a small kitchen. He made about filling the kettle and putting it on.

“Myc-”

“What do you want me to say Gregory? That I'm sorry, because I will if that's what you want. I could pretend I was lying when I said they were only one night stands if that's what you want to hear?”

“No!” Greg exclaimed. “I don't want you to feel that you have to lie to me. I just want to understand how it worked.” He got a wry look on his face. “I mean, I can't picture you going to a club hoping to get lucky.”

Mycroft snorted, despite himself. “You're correct there. I prefer a more intimate setting.” He turned and leaned back on the small countertop, his arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles. “Anthea scouted for me. When she identified a suitable candidate with compatible tastes, she let me know. It was a simple matter, after that, to arrange a meeting. Sometimes a scene was the result. Sometimes not.” He filled two mugs up. “At no point did I force anyone to participate, if it wasn't wanted, it didn't happen.” Despite his attempts to act indifferent Greg could see the anger and hurt. Maybe it wasn't a case of not knowing him enough, maybe he knew him too well, or at least how to read him. He stood up and joined his lover by the sink.

“I believe you.”

“But not in here,” he held his hand to Greg's chest just over his beating heart.

Greg shook his head violently and lifted his own hand to cover Mycroft's. “No. You're wrong. My heart loves you unreservedly. It's my copper's brain that reacted foolishly.”

The government official narrowed his eyes in thought. “Gregory...”

The DI cut him off. “Look, I should have understood. You never brought any of this up. I'm the one that did that. When you agreed, well, I should have figured you'd played before.” He gave a gentle laugh. “You're not exactly the type to do without.”

Mycroft pressed the mug filled with tea into Greg's hands, but the DI shook his head. He placed the mug on the side and dropped to his knees, his head as low and submissive as he could get it. “I don't need tea, sir. I need you to play with me and then fuck me through that mattress.”

Something inside Mycroft's chest unknotted. He wanted what Greg was offering and decided to take it, but he was going to give of himself as well. “Gently or rough?”

The DI looked up and an evil smile flash across his face. “Rough. Sir.”

“Obviously,” Mycroft concluded. “Head down!” The government official's tone changed in an instant, it was more a bark now than a gentle caressing tone. He pushed his hand into his sub's inside pocket and pulled his cuffs out. After a moment’s thought the Dom demanded Greg remove all his clothes. Once he had, he knelt back down again. “Hands behind you!” He ordered sharply. A relieved sigh was Greg's immediate response and Mycroft wasn't happy waiting longer than necessary so he grabbed the DI's hands and pulled them behind him tightening the cuffs around the thin wrists. “On your feet,” he hissed, dragging him upwards and pushing him back towards where the playroom awaited. Greg let himself be manhandled into the other room and wrestled to the floor. He shuddered and breathed heavily as Mycroft pinned him with a knee to the small of his back. “Head up,” the Dom ordered. When Greg lifted his head as far as he could, Mycroft bent and spoke into his ear. “Look around you. You see my toys? I imagine many of them are a mystery to you.”

The sub knew an answer was expected. “Yes, sir. They are.”

“Well, they're going to stay that way until you have some intimate connection with them.” Mycroft moved out of Greg's line of sight, but he daren't move his head. It was therefore a complete surprise when the Dom slipped a high leather posture collar around his neck making him keep his head up. Next, Mycroft fitted him with a head harness. The harness had an O-ring gag that held his mouth open, but it also had a leather flap that could be used to cover it over. Greg whined when the Dom closed it. Mycroft stood and fetched something that his sub couldn't identify. He held it up in front of Greg's wide eyes. “This, pet, is a cock parachute. It's used to stretch your balls. Once it's in place, I'll add weights to it. If it gets to be too much, snap your fingers.” His tone shifted from instructional to commanding. “Now, spread your legs.”

Greg was hesitant, to say the least; that thing didn't look very comfortable. Mycroft wasn't having that this time any more than he was the last time. He pressed his toe between his pet's legs and began nudging them apart when Greg moaned at the overstretch the Dom stopped and knelt down himself. He squeezed the hardening length in front of him and then clasped it around his balls. The DI mewled at the new sensation.

Mycroft next held up a shiny red ball. It was about 1.5 inches in diameter and hung by an eye bolt from a chain. “Shall we start easy, pet?” He shook the ball which rattled like a baby rattle. “It's only half full, so weighs about half a pound.” With a swift move, he hung it from the cock parachute. Out of reflex the DI's legs snapped shut. “Tut-tut, naughty sub,” Mycroft teased.

Greg soon found his knees spread, cuffs around them and held apart by a spreader bar. He blushed, feeling his cock hardening in response to the new and painful sensations. This was the most restricted his motions had yet been and that, too, added fuel to his arousal. Greg moaned obscenely. Another shiny red ball made an appearance and Greg wished he could throw his head back, but was cruelly denied by the collar. Mycroft went about fondling them with his toe, causing them to rock between the kneeling man's legs. Yet another toy made its appearance, a set of clover clamps on a chain. Greg tried to scoot away from the impending threat, but couldn't manage it, bound as he was. Mycroft chuckled darkly. “Come on, boy, you're a copper. You're used to being thrown in at the deep end.”

Greg's hips bucked as yet another weight was added below and he was caught successfully by surprise. For one moment, it all felt like too much. Greg almost snapped his fingers, he didn't think he could take the pulling insistent pain. That was when Mycroft placed a steadying hand on his chest. It was enough to calm him and allow him to endure.

The Dom studied his sub's eyes. What he saw there satisfied him that Greg was truly okay. Knowing that, he dropped his hand a few inches and jerked the chain dangling from the nipple clamps. When he began to unzip his trousers, the sub’s eyes widened. One of Mycroft's hands undid the zipper as the other removed the leather over the gag.

“Well, you've sucked me off before, let's see if your predicament affects your performance.”

Mycroft brought his cock to Greg's mouth, only the very head of his cock slipping past the O-ring. The sub flicked his tongue forward, seeking the slit at its tip. Greg moaned, struggling to move forward so he could take in the government official's full length. He wanted, no, needed to feel it heavy against his tongue. Mycroft matched Greg's slight shift forward with a small step back, eliciting a guttural sound of frustration from his sub.

“Good pet,” Mycroft murmured when Greg realised what he was after. He was actually pleasantly surprised he had cottoned on so quickly.

The DI pulled off his cock in order to straighten himself up again, bowing his head just slightly. The posture collar bit into his chin at the motion, reminding him just how helpless he was. The weighted balls hanging from the cock parachute swung back and forth, causing him to groan. The groan cut off with a hiss as Mycroft pulled insistently on the chain hanging from the clamps at his nipples.

“This way, pet. We're going for a little walk around the room.” The Dom smiled at Greg's pitiful whine.

From out of nowhere there was suddenly a dog leash, but it was an odd one, it was what the dog handlers used at the yard to walk two dogs at once. One end clipped onto the chain still hanging on Mycroft's finger. The other went down. Greg jerked back as much as he could manage, but the government official clearly anticipated it and held onto the chain tightly. The whimpering DI couldn't help but comply as the other chain was attached to the same area as the dangling balls. Greg scooted forward as best he could, but no matter how hard he tried, the odd leash kept tugging. The triple aches in his nipples and bollocks kept his attention. He had to keep trying to achieve relief.

“Look at me, pet,” Mycroft ordered with a sharp tug on the leash. Greg met his eyes and the Dom reached out, touching a finger to tears that the DI hadn't even known he had been shedding. “So beautiful,” he breathed as he brought his hand up and sucked his sub's tears from his fingertip.

Greg didn't realise quite how long the leash was until Mycroft held his hand up indicating he should stay and then backed to the wall. It was a good 4 or 5 yards away, the Dom leant back against the wall still holding the leash and dangled his cock teasingly.

“I'll let you suck me properly if you can get over here, but watch the bar wouldn't want you tripping would we my gorgeous pet?”

The distance seemed insurmountable, but Greg was determined to traverse it. Each tiny advance he made caused the shiny red balls to swing between his legs. The whole time, his eyes were locked with his Dom's and he concentrated on what he saw in them, a deep longing and admiration. Greg let himself make small, obscene noises – grunts of pain – moans of need. Eventually, after what felt like all night, he made it and without waiting for permission, delved into the cock which was now even harder than it had been.

“Come on, pet, you tried so hard for me, now you get your reward.” The Dom ran his hands through the silver hair in front of him; gently encouraging the sub to swallow him.

If Greg had noted the raw whine of need he let out, he would have been embarrassed. It was the rawest, most desperate sound he had ever made. He took Mycroft in as deeply as he could, moaning with satisfaction. He was finding it difficult to slide along the hard shaft in his mouth, thankfully, his Dom assisted him.

Mycroft gripped the side of Greg's head, guiding him along his length. The sight of his sub doing this so willingly was enough to wash away the last of his hurt. All that was left was love and hot, steamy desire that he channelled into fucking the DI's mouth.


	3. Peaceful Moments

Mycroft smiled at his new pet warmly. The DI had fallen asleep on the way back and he had gone from upright to laying in the Dom's lap. The older man ran his fingers through the short hair in front of him. “Wakey wakey gorgeous, we're home.”

Greg forced his eyes open reluctantly. He didn't want to move, he felt warm and safe. “Don' wanna move, Myc,” he mumbled lazily.

Mycroft chuckled. “We can't stay in here, brat.”

“Why not?” He twisted so his face was buried in the government official's trousers.

“Because you'll get cold.”

“M'good here.”

The driver had opened the door, so Mycroft slipped out from under his pet who let out a little whine. “Come here,” the Dom urged. With a sigh, Greg climbed from the car and stood on shaky legs. That would never do, so Mycroft scooped him up in strong arms. He laughed again, as the DI buried his head in his neck, hot breath ruffling silver hair.

“Open the door, and then you can go,” Mycroft nodded towards the door to their apartment and the driver obeyed immediately before climbing back in the car and driving off.

Mycroft briefly considered taking Greg through to their bedroom, but decided against it. His boy needed to eat something before he let him crash. However, when he got him through to the kitchen and tried to deposit him onto the unit, he clung on for dear life. Greg in subspace was a wonderful thing. Perhaps it would be okay to enjoy it for a while. Mycroft settled them both on the sofa, tucking Greg's head against his shoulder and running his fingers through his silver hair.

It wasn't long before faint snores were heard and Mycroft realised the whole 'not letting him go to sleep' idea had gone well out of the window. Moments like this were what he treasured. He'd had subs before and done all sorts to them, but like he'd told Greg, they were one night stands, he'd never had a dopey lover wrapped in his arms after taking them apart and putting them back together again. If he was honest with himself, this was the best bit by far.

Greg gave a little snuffle and shifted, but didn't wake. Mycroft couldn't help but to smile. He wondered how many ways he could take his sub down. Obviously, pain and humiliation worked quite nicely. Could he do it equally well with simple commands and pleasure? Perhaps something semi-public would work, though that would be tricky as the other parties would have to be trusted by them both. How would Greg respond to service? How would Greg respond to John and Sherlock? They were all interesting questions, but there were too many possibilities for even his brain to cover.

He gave Greg nearly an hour, but by then was starving. He began to blow in Greg's ear, the most irritating way to wake him up that he could manage. The DI shifted to hide one ear, but only managed to present the other one. Mycroft blew into that one.

Greg lifted his head, managing a half-hearted glare. “You could have kissed me awake, Myc.”

“That was more fun. Now up you get.”

“Don'wanna.”

“God, you're up and down like a yoyo.”

“Tha's your fault.”

“Get off your arse and go and put the kettle on.” He didn't use his soppy lover tone he used his stern Dom one and Greg immediately rolled off his lap and headed into the kitchen, bare feet padding as he went.

Even now, Greg was soft and compliant. Mycroft couldn't resist following him and trailing his hand down his sub's arm. “Do you have any idea how amazing you are, Gregory?”

He flicked the kettle on and then turned back to Mycroft. He just dropped to his knees and hugged the Dom's leg.

Mycroft was torn. The scene earlier had been intense and his pet needed rest, but he was so tantalising as he was knelt before him. Kneeling wouldn't harm the young man, he obviously got comfort from it and deserved it. The sub didn't move when Mycroft leant over and opened the cupboard in search for mugs. As far as he was concerned, the only negative of this was the potential threat of 'drop, but he seemed so calm and relaxed that almost seemed impossible. He went about the process of brewing tea and managed to reach a few biscuits without disturbing his pet. It was far past time to get some fluids and food into him, though Mycroft hesitated to call biscuits food. “Come along, Pet. You have to get up now,” he urged. Greg just shook his head dopily and crawled through to the other room. Mycroft couldn't help but watch his arse go, he placed the teas and biscuits onto a tray and followed his sub through to the other room. He was knelt beside the chair, his hands resting in his lap.

Though it wasn't a position he had ever taken as a Dom, Mycroft soon found himself sitting on the floor next to Greg. He pulled his sub against him and lifted a cup of tea to the DI's lips. It was gratifying to watch as his pet drank by his hand.

His eyes even drifted shut as he drained the mug only moments after it came out of the kettle and then his head fell on the Dom's shoulder.

“Oh, Gregory, what have I ever done to deserve you?” He hadn't expected an answer, so was caught completely by surprise when he received one.

“Hmm,” Greg said from his happy place. “What haven't you done? You run the government, you keep that brother of yours alive and you found a reason to love a rundown old copper. You're amazing, sir.”

“I'm the amazing one?”

“You've managed to keep Sherlock alive, I think that's enough to call anyone amazing.”

“I passed that responsibility to John Watson a long time ago.”

“And now you keep me alive. Sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“What would I be without you, sir?” Greg answered his own question. “A sad, lonely DI, working 18 hour days, going home to loneliness and caring less every day.” He gave a shudder, picturing it all too easily.

“But you're not and you never will.”

“As long as I continue to sub for you.”

Mycroft opened his mouth and Greg cut him off. “I'm joking, I realised I was wrong. But I don't understand why you never said.”

Mycroft sighed and rested his own head on his sub's. “I couldn't risk losing you.”

“That will never happen, sir, not as long as we are honest with each other and I know that we are.” Greg shifted a bit, an insistent discomfort making itself known. Blushing, he looked down as he spoke, “In the interest of honesty, my balls are aching something fierce.”

“Up you get then, I'll go and run us a bath.”

“A bath, sir? It's more like a swimming pool.”

Mycroft chuckled as he stood up and ruffled Greg's hair as he made his way to the bathroom, deep in thought.

When Mycroft called Greg into the loo, the bath was only half full, but it still rose well past his waist when his Dom helped him into it. The DI hissed as the hot water touched his abused flesh, then relaxed into it as it started soothing tight muscles.

“You not joining me, sir?”

“No, pet, this is your time.”

“But-”

“You were such a good boy tonight,” he cupped his cheek. “Let me do this for you.”

Greg nodded but as soon as soon as Mycroft had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and reached over for the soap Greg grabbed him and pulled him over the edge.

“Gregory!” He spluttered.

Greg took the initiative and stole a kiss. Well, stole was an exaggeration. Once it had been initiated, Mycroft fell in with it whole heartedly.

“I hope you haven't ruined your suit, sir,” the DI said cheekily.

Mycroft pulled his phone from his soaking wet pocket and shrugged, he threw it in the general direction of the door. “I'll get a new one.”

Mycroft started working at the buttons of his waistcoat, but Greg brushed his hands away. “Let me, sir. You know I like it.”

Well there was a tick in the box for service.

Greg made quick work of the soaking waistcoat and pushed it back off his lover's shoulders.

“You know earlier…”

“Go on, pet.”

“You know earlier, you said I was gorgeous.”

“Of course.”

“Well that's nothing compared to you in a soaking wet suit.” He grabbed the Dom's tie and pulled him forward, Mycroft's tongue was in his mouth before he realised what had happened.

He was more than happy at the development and returned the kiss with enthusiasm. Eventually, they were forced to break for air. When that happened, something horrible occurred. Mycroft's insecurities found their voice. “I'm really not.”

Greg's brows drew together in confusion. “Not what?”

Mycroft looked away. “I know how I look, Gregory. There's no need to lie to me.”

“Are you about to punish me?”

“What?! No!”

Greg smiled evilly. “I was under the impression in a Dom/sub relationship one of the basic rules was no lying.”

Mycroft nodded, not sure where this was going.

“Well, sir, if you're not about to punish me, I can't be lying, can I?”

Mycroft tried to make it sound light when he responded, “I always suspected you were a bit mad for pursuing me. My brother's the attractive one.”

“What!” Greg exclaimed. “He may be pleasant enough to look at now, but if it weren't for John, he'd be nothing but skin stretched over bone.” His eyes narrowed as it suddenly hit him. “You really believe it, don't you, that you're nothing to look at. Let me show you how very wrong you are.”


End file.
